If Gran Torino is Clint Eastwood's farewell to big screen acting, it's certainly the right (excuse the pun) vehicle to showcase the big man's talents.  What at first glance looked like "Clint does Death Wish" is actually a warmer, more captivating story of an old man begrudgingly realising his need for redemption.

Because, and make no mistake about it, Eastwood's Walt Kowalski isn't a particularly nice guy. Old and bitter, Walt's wife recently passed away, leaving him alone in his family home, resentful of the sons he never got to know, and the grandchildren he simply doesn't understand.

His rudeness and racism is relentless, be it to the family he has left, or the priest who promised Walt's late wife he'd watch over her miserable husband.

But all Walt wants is to sit on his porch with his dog, drinking beer and polishing his prized 1972 Ford GT.

When a family of Hmong people - a minority spread across S.E. Asia - move into his increasingly multicultural neighbourhood, it brings the worst out in the openly prejudice Walt, who leaves the family in no uncertainty as to how he feels about their presence.

But when the family's teenagers come under threat - son Thao (Vang) is bullied by his cousin's gang while his sister Sue (Her) is nearly attacked by local bullies - Walt can't help but intervene, and begrudgingly form a bond with the pair.

The story is as simple and lean as other Clint classics Unforgiven and The Outlaw Josey Wales, and as polished as the pristine condition Gran Torino Walt lovingly tends to.  But, the no-fuss approach allows Eastwood the director to explore writer Nick Schenk's characters, particularly the tormented central figure. 

And while Walt never loses his often gasp-out-loud racism, a good heart clearly beats at the centre of all that flint, making his touching attempts to "man-up" the wallflower Thao one of Eastwood's best realised onscreen relationships.

He also wisely goes for two unknowns to play the irrepressible brother and sister who coax Walt out of his hate hole, and debuting actors Vang and Her bring an unaffected vibrancy that makes a virtue out of their unprofessionalism.

When the film turns dark, it goes for light-out blackness.  The local Hmong gangbangers pose a real threat to the brother and sister and also Walt, whose blood and thunder tactics from the Korean War are more than matched by the amoral, Uzi-toting bad guys.   Hell, Eastwood even permits himself to shed a lone tear at the injustice of it all.

The climax is guessable, but makes complete sense in the situation, and is a stirring denouement to a mammoth screen career.

Go ahead, make your day and give it a spin.

Rob Daniel